


Lettered Escape

by holomeds



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Angst, Developing Relationship, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pining, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:41:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27566167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holomeds/pseuds/holomeds
Summary: Redmond and Blutarch Mann are dead. The Administrator has a plan to kill all of the mercenaries, as they know too much. She entrusts Miss Pauling to do this.Miss Pauling has other plans.
Relationships: Engineer/Spy (Team Fortress 2), Heavy/Medic (Team Fortress 2), Scout/Sniper (Team Fortress 2)
Comments: 42
Kudos: 89





	1. Death and Betrayal

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thank you to my lovely editor @westcoastsmoked! I hope you all enjoy.

The monitoring room was dimly lit. The monitors were switched off. She was wearing a tight black dress and a large feathered hat. It had been a crow’s feathers. She had forced the younger one to wear a black dress as well. 

“It’s over.” Helen tells her, “you know this.”

Francine nods, folding her hands together as she stands in front of the doorway. Helen has a cigarette in between her fingers, taking a small puff every ten seconds. Slowly, the older woman turns in the large leather chair she was sitting in to face Francine, who had looked frightened. She lifts her hand, motioning for Francine to come to her. 

The younger woman, hesitating for only a moment, walks over to where her boss was sitting. Her voice doesn’t waver above a small whisper. “What did you call me here for?”

Helen places the cigarette in between her lips, and reaches for the other woman’s hands. Francine looks down at the Administrator's hands. They are disgusting. There was absolutely no sign of life in the Administrator’s veiny and wrinkled body. Almost like a corpse. The Administrator should be dead, she should have died years ago. Her eyes are void of emotion. With every word that comes out of her mouth, Francine wishes she would drop dead on the spot. 

“You know what I called you here to do.”

Francine swallows, feeling a slight shiver down her back. “Yes.”

"Tomorrow." The older one tells her, letting her hands go. 

"Tomorrow?"

"I trust you to get it done."

"Yes, Helen.”

The younger one exits the room. This was the room she had monitored many battles in, where she had stood behind the old woman, listening to her go on and on about thousands of different topics. The room she had been so familiar with for years. She knows that this will be the last time she sees that room. Part of her is glad, but the other part of Francine is mourning the years of her life that she wasted here.

'Tomorrow' echoes over and over again in Francine's head. Tomorrow, the Administrator is expecting the entire red team to be executed. The woman expects Francine to be proudly displaying all of her friend’s heads on gold platters. As Francine walks down the hallway, she crosses her arms, glancing up at cameras that watched her every single move. 

\--

Francine had disabled the cameras in the Red base, but only temporarily. She had run as fast as she could there, holding onto a duffel bag full of money for dear life, praying she wouldn’t be caught. Tomorrow, Helen had expectations. If she were to show up the next day with none of them dead, Helen would kill her, and then all of the mercenaries. Francine had created a rough plan of what to do in her head, and could only hope that she would succeed.

She types in a code to enter the base, and as soon as the doors shut behind her, she’s running to find any of the mercenaries. She gets lucky when four of them are already together in the common room. Medic had been playing cards with Demoman, and Sniper and Scout were sitting together on the couch, watching TV.

“Miss Pauling,” Scout stands up from the couch. “What are you doing here?” 

Ignoring Scout, she places the duffel bag on a table and shuffles through it, checking for her clipboard. Scout walks over to her, curious to see what is in the bag.

“Miss Pauling?” 

“Jeremy,” She replies firmly. It’s the first time she’s said his real name. “I need you to get everyone in here. ASAP.”

“Yes. Yeah, sure.” The Bostonian has no idea what this could possibly be about, but he listens anyways. If _she _had said his real name, something she had threatened them all to never do, things had to be serious. He runs out of the room and starts rounding up the rest of the team.__

____

____

Medic gets up from his seat, dropping the cards in his hand. He slowly approaches Francine, looking into the bag. There were at least fifty large bundles of cash inside of it. “Miss Pau-“ 

“Ludwig,” she interrupts, just as Heavy walks into the room. “After this meeting, I need you to gather some equipment. Make five first aid kits, and make sure you have a good amount of medi-gun fluid in there.”

A little confused by the abruptness of this, he nods anyways. He backs away from her, and he starts making a mental list of everything he needs to include in the kits, as more and more team members filter into the room. Soon, the entire team had arrived. Spy was already at the liquor cabinet, pouring himself a drink. He knew none of this was going to be good. 

“Uh,” she mumbles, flipping through her clipboard. Her hands shake. “The war is over. Blutarch and Redmond Mann are dead. You’re all unemployed.” 

Spy was right. He takes a swig of the drink in his hand. 

The room goes silent, and the mercenaries start exchanging worried glances. Engineer breaks the silence, and he laughs, almost relieved he doesn’t have to work for this place anymore. His entire life revolved around completing his father’s work. His long career was spent trying to keep the two Mann brothers alive for as long as possible. He’s now free. Engineer can leave, he can move back to Texas with his family and, maybe, he could finally settle down. 

“Well, ain’t that good news for us?” He asks, placing his hands on his hips. 

Francine glances at Dell, then continues. “She wants all of you dead. Technically, I am supposed to be killing all of you in your sleep tonight. I couldn’t bring myself to.”

The color in the Engineer's face fades, and he swallows. He couldn’t go home quite yet.

“There is a hundred-thousand dollars in this bag. Twenty-thousand will go out to each group.” 

Scout thinks for a second. “Twenty thousand? That only means 5 of us.” 

“Let me finish.”

 _ _I have chosen five locations around the world to_ hopefully_ keep you all secured while I figure all of this out. You will be split into five groups. Keep each other safe. At the end of each month, you’ll send a letter to my address. If you don’t send a letter for that month, I will assume you’re dead. You can write whatever you want in the letter, I don’t care. Just get it to me, okay? I have assigned all of you aliases as well, so she won’t be able to track us through the letters.”

Sniper moves closer to Scout, taking his hand. “What are the groups?” 

Pauling flips to another page, looking up at them. Spy takes another swig of his drink, dreading whatever she’s about to say. “Ludwig and Misha, Germany.“ 

Heavy and Medic look at each other, and the two smile, relieved. 

“Soldier... and Tavish, California. Mick and Jeremy, Alaska. Dell.. and Spy, Ontario. Pyro and I will be in Maine. I know the locations aren’t very diverse, but they’re the best I can do in the moment. You all have to be on your own to find an apartment or house. I didn’t get that far. You have plenty of money anyways. I’ll be sending all of you updates, and your names you’ll go by—shit, We really have to go before she figures out what’s going on. Do you all understand? You all need to pack. Meet back in here when you’re done. Make it quick.”

Everyone was satisfied with who they were paired with, except for Spy and Engineer. Spy shoots the Texan a cold stare, before exiting the room to go pack his bags. Engineer rolls his eyes at this. Tavish is overjoyed, and he pulls Soldier in for a headlock. “Ey, ya here that! We’re goin ta’ be together!” 

Soldier smiles. “I can not wait to go to Russia!” 

“California is only a few states away, Sol.” Engineer chuckles, patting Soldier’s back before leaving for his workshop. Jeremy and Mick leave together. They were already sharing a room, so moving somewhere else together would be a breeze. 

Ten minutes after Miss Pauling had given her speech, Medic was in his lab, bags already packed. Now, he was working on Miss Pauling’s request.

For each of the five kits he fills a large bottle with medi-gun fluid, along with writing a sticky note of instructions for them. He feels selfish after he packs two bottles for himself and Heavy. He was the one who had created the substance, so he doesn’t feel too awful about it.

He hears someone come into the room, but he can’t be bothered to turn and see who it is. “Gauze.. bandages..” he mumbles, hurrying to his cabinet to grab another box of materials, distributing them evenly into each pack. 

Misha clears his throat, holding onto his suitcase. “You are busy?” 

“Oh, Heavy!” He turns, smiling. “A little.” He chuckles, looking very stressed. “Could you help me out with a few things?” 

Misha places his suitcase down, and walks over. “What do you need?” 

“Could you get 5 bottles of antibiotic ointment from cabinet C?” 

The Russian walks over to the cabinet. He had come here to talk to him, to ask him something, but it seemed that would have to wait until later. He hands him the ointment, and Medic places them in each kit. “Obviously, none of us can go to any hospitals. The administrator would be able to look us up and find out where we are. I’m trying to pack everything everyone would need.. I’ll pack the basics for the team, but for us..” he hurries over to another cabinet with a large duffle bag, starting to toss one of every single thing in each cabinet into the bag. “I’ll be a little more prepared.”

When he’s done, he closes the kits and turns to the man, smiling. “Heavy, do me a favor and carry my bag for me?” 

Without saying anything else, Heavy grabs Medic’s bags, and the two start heading to the common room. When they arrive, Heavy watches as Medic begins distributing the kits to each of the groups. 

“Do not use these disparagingly.” He orders, loud enough for them all to hear. “These kits are all you have. Only use the medi-gun fluid in dire situations.” He hands a kit to Francine, and she opens it. There is an overwhelming amount of small bottles with pills, syringes, little boxes, gauze, and medical tape. She sighs, relieved that the five groups would be well-equipped for whatever came their way.

After Medic finishes his instructions, he walks back over to Heavy, placing his bag down. “Germany..” He says, crossing his arms. “How are we supposed to find an apartment?”

“Will have good money. It will be easy. Rich people get spoiled.”

“That’s true.”

Francine speaks again. “Alright, we really need to go. C’mon, grab your things.”

The team picks up their bags, and follows her to the garage. As soon as they arrive, Sniper hurries over to his van. He’ll have enough money to buy another, but this van had so many memories. He places a hand on the hood, and drops his head slightly, almost as if a final goodbye. Scout grabs his hand, and gives Sniper a knowing nod. Scout pulls him away from the van, almost as torn as Sniper is about it. That was where things began for them. They had laughed, fought, and fallen in love in that van. Now they were forced to leave it behind. Neither of them felt ready for the change.

Before they know it, Francine starts up a large car that fits all of them. She disables the GPS and any form of tracking. The mercenaries squeeze together in the three rows of the car, Heavy and Medic sitting in the far back. Medic is obviously squished, but he doesn’t mind. 

Spy is in the front with Francine, and when she starts driving, he takes a cigarette out of his case, lighting it and bringing it to his lips. Francine glances at him for a moment and scoffs at the sight. “You’re kidding me.”

“We are in a very stressful situation.”

Francine grips the steering wheel a little bit harder. “You have a point. Open a window, at least.”

Spy rolls down his window, just enough to let most of the smoke escape. The volume in the car grows as the mercenaries start speaking to one another, and when the masked man is absolutely sure the others can’t hear him, he speaks. “So, you absolutely cannot switch the groups?”

“I thought you liked the Engineer.”

“I do not.”

“Well, I guess you’re going to have to deal with it. There isn’t much I can do for you here, Richard.”

“Do not call me that.”

Engineer pokes his head in the space between the two front seats. “Richard? Never pegged you as a Richard.”

Spy tries to push the Engineer back into his seat. “You especially do not get to call me that. Mind your business.”

“Like I said, you two will just have to deal with this. At least try to get along, it’ll make this suck a lot less.” Francine interrupts, her tone a bit more relaxed.

Almost in unison, the two men groan, settling back in their seats. 

In the back, Heavy and Medic sit. They’re silent for a little bit, unsure what to say to one another. They’re going to have to live with one another. Ludwig wasn’t freaked out about it. Heavy had often been in his lab anyways. They would talk and talk for hours, and they would never get bored of each other. Heavy, on the other hand, was overjoyed. He could protect his doctor for as long as he needed to. 

Medic clears his throat. “So.”

“Да?”

He’s not even sure of what to say. “We should look for an apartment in Stuttgart.” Heavy has no objections, so Ludwig continues. “It’s where I was born.” 

Heavy’s not quite sure he wants to go to his hometown. He had recalled Medic had abandoned his family to pursue a medical career at eighteen. Wouldn’t his family be mad at him? He shakes off the thought when Medic laughs. Heavy goes to face him, but refrains when he realizes he might find himself in an awkward position. “What is funny?”

“Nothing.” He replies, “It’s really nothing.” 

Scout pokes his head over the seat, grinning at them. “Ya know, I’m really gonna miss you two. Who else is supposed to yell at me for breathing now?”

Medic smirks. “Oh, I’m quite sure Sniper will take over for us.”

Scout sighs, getting one last good look at them. “Have fun in Germany.”

Heavy nods. “Be safe in Alaska, tiny man. Buy many coats. Gets very cold.” 

“You got it, big guy.”

Scout sits back down in his seat. Medic turns his attention to the window, watching the world go by. He hoped everything would turn out okay. He hoped that himself and Heavy would be alright. There would be no daily grind of waking up for battle in the morning. The routines he was so used to would be pulled out from underneath him, and he couldn’t do anything about it. No more seeing the seven other mercenaries he had grown with. When they were to get an apartment, he would go to a pet store to get himself some new birds first. Archimedes had been taken from him years ago, and though nothing could replace his beloved bird, he wanted to get another dove to at least get some form of normalcy back. Medic hoped they would all adapt okay.

Heavy keeps his head forward, listening to the others. This chaotic banter would be no more, and it made him feel awful. He hears Soldier talk about all of the things himself and Demo would do, about how they would go out drinking every night and ‘be patriotic.’ He hears Miss Pauling scold him, about how that absolutely was not going to happen. Heavy chuckles. He turns to his doctor, who’s attention was elsewhere. 

It’s another hour of them all talking, reminiscing about the past, and Miss Pauling explaining more of what’s going on. Medic doesn’t speak another word during that time. When they arrive at the airport, Heavy taps Medic’s shoulder gently. The German turns to him. “Are you ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”


	2. Departure

It was like a clown car. Ten fully grown people (and Scout) exiting the car and getting all of their luggage together. Miss Pauling had managed to grab a small bag of personal belongings before she had brought the money to the base, but she didn't have much time to pack really anything else. The ten walked into the airport, and half of them were still wearing their work uniform. The other half had actually remembered to change into some casual clothes. Miss Pauling leads the group, a million things racing through her mind. 

"Hey, Miss Pauling?" Scout asks, jogging over to her.

"Yes?"

"How do you expect all of us to find somewhere to live?"

"If being an adult is difficult for you, you can go to a motel or something. You just need somewhere you can lay relatively low. Oh!" She stops walking and turns to all of them. They all stop abruptly. "You all need to change your appearance. Make yourself less recognizable. I know that might be difficult, but you have to. If her hitmen have pictures of all of you, you're dead."

"Hitmen?" Engineer chimes in. "We're being hunted?"

"What did you think was happening?" Spy remarks, rolling his eyes.

"Quit it." Francine snaps, turning and continuing walking. Maybe it was a bad idea to put Engineer and Spy together, but there was really no one else to pair the two with. Scout and Sniper were in a relationship, Heavy and Medic were good friends, and Demo and Soldier basically were always together. Francine needed to have Pyro with her, she didn't want to deal with someone who would constantly burn her out. Like Engineer. Or Spy. 

The group disperses to buy their tickets, and when it's all handled, they meet back up together and wait for the first group to depart. They all start saying their goodbyes, hugging, reminiscing about the past. All of them seemed so hopeful and happy, while Francine felt like everything about this would go horribly wrong.

She goes to sit down, she leans back in her chair, sighing. She wasn't sure how she was going to make this work. Her plan was rough, but it was the only way to keep them all safe. If they're all split apart, it would be harder to track them, and having them in buddies meant they could watch one another's backs.

The Administrator would wake up and find that Francine and all of the mercenaries were nowhere to be found. She would kill all of the BLU team. From there, she would hire Saxton Hale's personal hitmen to start tracking where they could have gone. They would check security cameras, only to find that all forms of communication had been shut down by Francine. If the hitmen found where they were, she could only hope their years of fighting would pay off, and the mercs would be able to fend for themselves.  
She pulls out a pad and pen, and starts writing down the new names the mercenaries will all have to use when they get to their new locations. She can have fake IDs made and mailed out to them as well. She can only hope all of this will work out.

A half hour later while Francine is working, Pyro leans against her shoulder. She smiles. "Hey. Are you ready to go to Maine? It's nice and cold there. We can light fires every night, and drink hot chocolate. How does that sound?" Pyro claps their hands together happily. It was soothing to have their presence. They were kind and understanding, and though they didn't speak much, Francine didn't mind. If they wanted to stay masked, she would let them.

An announcement sounds through the airport. A woman on the speaker starts calling the planes that would be departing. It's Scout and Sniper's plane. Francine sits up in the chair and watches Scout pick up his large backpack, slinging it over his shoulder. He's quick to walk over to Francine, who had already stood up, ready to give them their new names. She hands them a small piece of paper that has the town she'll be living in, and her new full name. Emily Marie Wilson. She also has on it Sniper and Scout's new names. Scout would be Ethan Fitzgerald and Sniper would be Jackson Finning. "Send the first letter as soon as you can to town hall. I'll be able to find it."

Scout nods, placing the piece of paper into his bag. The Bostonian smiles. "You know I'm gonna miss you." 

Francine gives him a small sympathetic smile, leaning forward and engulfing Scout into a hug. "Stay safe, swing n' miss."

That was the nickname Francine had called him during one of the first times they had spoken to each other. ‘Swing and miss' had become his nickname, and even during battle when Miss Pauling would make announcements, she'd call him that. Jeremy was one of her best friends. And to see him go, well, it was difficult. She had no idea if they would come back safe. 

The hug ends, and Sniper is the next one in line, giving Francine a small hug with a pat on the back. "Keep him safe." She whispers. "Don't let him get into any trouble."

Sniper nods. "We'll be alright."

The two are off to walk to the gate to their plane. When they are out of sight, Francine sighs, and crosses her arms. Two out of the ten of them all. She looks around at the others. Demo, Engineer, and Soldier are sitting together, laughing. Spy, unsurprisingly sits by himself. She walks over to Heavy and Medic.

"Are you guys going to be okay?" She asks softly. "I assume I will send you to your hometown, so you can maybe move in with any relatives." 

Medic gives her an appreciative smile. "Yes. I'll be visiting my mother and father. I really do want to thank you for doing all of this.”

She crosses her arms, sighing. "There's other ways of handling this situation...if I can talk to her knowing she won't kill me, maybe I can convince her to spare all of you. I know there has to be a way to keep all of you alive.”

"Not fair little woman should have such weight on back." Misha replies, frowning.

"Don't worry," she says, laughing softly. "I have Pyro. They'll provide me with all the company I need." She grabs a small piece of scrap paper and sighs, handing it to Heavy. The paper reads three names, and an address. He can only assume his and Medic’s new names are the two male ones, Finn Herrings and Ivan Kikovich. "I've given you both new names you'll have to go by. Please try to make it work."

Medic glances at the paper. Finn. He didn't mind the name. He had a friend growing up who had that name. "Danke." Medic replies, watching her walk away to talk to the others.

Misha nudges Ludwig on his arm. "Is funny. Just learned Doktor's real name and now will have to call you by fake one again."

"Oh, it won't be too hard for you." He smiles. "Just consider it another one of your nicknames."

"Yes. Will have to."

Next, Soldier and Demo's plane is called. She's a little nervous for the both of them, but she knows they will keep each other safe. She hands them the paper. "These are your new names, along with the address you’ll be sending the first letter to. Please make it work, please stay hidden. Change your appearances the best you can.”

Demo reads off his new name. Kian McNally. Soldier's is John Williamson. The Scot puts it away in a safe spot and lifts his bags. "Alright ye' lads, I'll see you all soon!"

"Yes. And if you see a hitman, kick his ass!" Soldier cries enthusiastically, earning a small laugh from Demoman and Engineer. The mercenaries that are left wave goodbye to the two. 

"So, what are you planning on doing with your appearance when we get to Germany?" Medic asks, crossing his arms.

"Beard. Glasses. I will wear hat. Heavy will be unrecognizable."

"I'll take your word for it."

Another half hour passes, and Spy and Engineer's plane is called. Spy stands, having already received his and Engineer's new fake names, he's about ready to just leave. Miss Pauling walks over to him, and he sighs.

"Richard," Francine says softly. "You have to try to get along with him. You won't last a week if you want to kill him. Dell is all you have, and if you mess this up and get the both of you killed.." She sighs, watching Spy turn to the Texan, who had been watching them. He looked tired, he just wanted to leave.

"Resentment won't bring her back." Francine whispers, watching Spy turn back to her. "I know nothing will bring her back." She had thought the two had forgiven one another, turns out she was VERY wrong. The accident had been years ago. It hurt both of them so, so much. 

“I know.” Richard replies softly, sighing as Francine pulls him in for a hug. 

"Keep him safe?" 

There’s silence for a moment. "I will."

Richard breaks the hug, and walks back to Engineer, who had already grabbed all of his bags. "Let's go." Spy tells him, picking up his bags. The two walk out of sight. It's down to Heavy, Medic, Francine, and Pyro. They all sit together, chatting. Pyro makes sure they hug everyone for a solid ten minutes, although Medic isn't too enthusiastic about it, he hugs Pyro anyways.

Francine and Pyro depart. They're alone. It's the first time they've been fully alone. No base. No Scout coming in to interrupt their chess game, no hearing small sounds of bombs erupting from across the battlefield. No screaming, no worrying about messing up on the field the next day. It would just be them in Germany. 

Awkward silence creeps into the noisy airport. The two just want their flight to be called. An hour passes with small conversation in between, though the conversation wasn't very enticing. A sigh of relief passes over them when their plane is called, and they stand. Medic picks up his bags, hoping his family was alive.


	3. The Painting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few quick notes before you get into the chapter: I am a 16 year old girl who lives in America. I do not know a great deal about Germany, their locations, the food, the names of things, etc.. please keep in mind not everything will be historically accurate. (this is the tf2 universe) All I ask is you ignore any minor discrepancies I don’t have control of. 
> 
> And as always, thank you to @westcoastsmoked for looking over this and fixing any mistakes.
> 
> Thank you.

_‘Germany is nicer than I had remembered it to be. It’s beautiful. Ivan and I have been traveling the surrounding area quite often. We have been visiting stores, spending time in the town, going out drinking and partying. I understand you don’t wish for us to be going out so much my dear sister, but I can assure you we are perfectly safe. Anyways, I must be attending to the birds now. I shall write you back in one fortnight!’ ___

__“This sounds really...cheesy.” Ludwig says, dropping the pen in his hands and turning to Misha, who had been sitting behind him, telling him what to write down on the paper._ _

__“No no, is perfectly fine. Miss Pauling will know you are not serious about things you are saying.” The Russian crosses his arms, starting to speak again, “now-“_ _

__“Misha, I don’t think this is the letter she is expecting.” The German sighs, standing up from the desk. “I haven’t written a letter to anyone in years.”_ _

__“It has already been two week since we got here. Miss Pauling needs letter. You know I can not write letter to her since English is bad. You must.”_ _

__It had been two long weeks since the two had arrived to a very cold Stuttgart, Germany. Ludwig would have never thought he would be back in the town he had once left for a ‘better life.’ The town was definitely different from when he was a child, it was cleaner, the people were nicer, and the food had been so much more tastier from what he remembered. The streets he had roamed years and years ago, the alleys where he would be beaten up in, all of the apartments he would pass by where old friends and lovers used to be, it was all here. He couldn't say it didn't depress him even a little, because it did. But, he was hopeful of the future and wanted to create new memories in a town that never treated him too well._ _

__They had found a hotel to stay in while they searched for somewhere to live; the "Der Sonnenuntergang" hotel, an extremely fancy hotel in the town. At least to the two older men’s eyes it was, they were used to living in a dirty war base. Walking into the lobby to be greeted with a large tank with an assortment of large colored fish was extremely intriguing to the both of them, and when they would be walking in and out of the hotel, they’d always take a quick stop to marvel at the fish._ _

__They had taken one of the more luxurious suites that featured a kitchen and a small office. Ludwig made the office his makeshift bedroom. They had to buy an air mattress, which wasn’t entirely comfortable, but it would have to work in their situation._ _

__Ludwig finally nods, “Let’s just take a break for now. It’s only morning, anyways. We have the entire day ahead of us. Would you like to go out?”_ _

__Misha stares at him for a second, trying to understand the other’s problem with writing a letter, before nodding. “Alright.”_ _

__Francine had told the two of them before she had left they had to change their appearances, so about a week into arriving Ludwig had dyed his hair blonde. He had also left his glasses at home when they left the house. It impaired his vision slightly and resulted in small headaches the night they would get back at the hotel, but Ludwig essentially looked like another person. Misha honestly didn’t think Ludwig could get any more attractive than he previously was. As for Misha himself, he had decided to start growing out a beard._ _

__Ludwig slips on his shoes and grabs his coat, going to open the door. Misha follows him, “we are going to look at fishies?”_ _

__Ludwig smiles. “Of course.”_ _

__—_ _

__"You know what I could use about now?" Ludwig says, taking a bite of a cake he had bought from a shop. They had gone to a few stores to find some authentic German goodies, and now they sat at a picnic table next to a pond._ _

__Misha sits across the bench from him, glancing over at the small frozen body of water next to them. "What?" He replies softly, turning back to his friend._ _

__"Panaché. It's a beer. Half lemonade."_ _

__"Buy it."_ _

__"I would. It's just that I haven't seen it yet. I remember my father used to drink it. When I was seventeen he had given me a can, we talked for hours after that. It was almost the first time I truly felt like I could be connected to him.”_ _

__Misha cocks a brow. "Father used to drink a lot?"_ _

__Ludwig shrugs. "Like any man with a child does."_ _

__The Russian is quiet for a moment, sighing. With coming back to Ludwig's home town, it also came with Ludwig feeling down about how he had grown up. Whenever they would walk by something he had recalled from his childhood there would always be a dark memory behind it. It sucked. Misha felt awful he couldn’t help or do anything to calm him down._ _

__He watches Ludwig stand, taking his small plate and walking it to a trash can. Instead of coming back to the picnic table, the blond walks towards the pond, placing his now gloved hands into his long coat's pockets._ _

__Misha follows him, joining his side by the frozen pond. "Does this bring back memory?"_ _

__He hears the German sigh. "Yeah."_ _

__Misha waits for another response, but when he realizes the other is done speaking, he doesn't say anything else. He just stands by his side, and he'll have to wait another day to hear about it. It was fine. He would wait._ _

__Finally, Misha decides to break the silence. "Hey, we should go find beer you want."_ _

__"Oh, it's really not a huge deal if we find it or not."_ _

__"Let us go, it will make you happy, will it not?"_ _

__"It would."_ _

__Misha turns, playfully nudging Ludwig's arm for him to follow. The other smiles, before turning to follow his friend. "If I haven't seen it at all since I've been here, I doubt we'll have any luck finding it."_ _

__"Do not be so sure!" The other replies, grinning, "there are stores we have not been in."_ _

__It had been starting to get dark, and that meant the temperature was dropping. Ludwig was going to have to buy some more winter gear while they were out. But right now, staying warm was the least of their worries. They were on the hunt for some alcohol Ludwig only vaguely remembered, which was far more important, obviously. Misha didn’t mind helping him find it, if this made him recall a happy memory, Misha would follow him wherever he wanted to go. Ludwig opens the door to walk into a small corner store, Misha following behind him, starting to look around and see what this store had to offer._ _

__Misha always enjoyed exploring the different items in different stores around the world, though America had been his favorite. It always amused him the amount of worthless things inside of the stores, the small knick knacks, and he had even once seen a hamburger with vanilla ice cream inside of it. He would miss America._ _

__The German walks to the back wall of the store, looking through the multiple small fridges that had different drinks inside of them. Misha stands away from him, waiting with his hands in his pockets. He watches the store clerk approach them._ _

__"Benötigen Sie Hilfe bei der Suche?"* The man asks, glancing over at Misha for only a second._ _

__"Weißt du, wo ich Zitronenbier finde?"* Ludwig replies, closing the fridge._ _

__The two keep talking, and while they speak, Misha decides to keep looking around the store. He can't understand a single word they are saying to one another. He picks up a small novelty toy. It's a square magnet that has a bear, and then a cottage behind it. It reminds him of home. He wished he could be home, he knew his sisters and mother would love the doctor, but he knew staying in Germany would keep his family safe._ _

__A hand is placed on his shoulder and Misha places the magnet down. "There's some at a store down the road." He tells him quietly, walking towards the exit. Eventually, as they walk down the road some more, they find the store that supposedly had the drink he had been looking for. "I will wait outside." Misha says to his friend, sitting down on a bench outside of the store._ _

__Ludwig nods, walking up the few steps to the shop before opening the door. The store is dark, only having a few empty shelves scattered around. There’s no one in sight. He walks forwards, glancing up at the ceiling to see there’s one dim light. “Hello?” He calls, growing nervous, “is anyone here?”_ _

___“They’re dead.” A voice replies softly._ __

____The German is silent for a moment. “...what?”_ _ _ _

_____“They’re dead.”_ __ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

______A hand is placed on his shoulder and he jumps, turning around only to see a concerned Misha. “Are you okay?? You froze in front of door.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Ludwig shrugs off his hand, turning to look around his surroundings. They’re standing in front of the door of the store, the sun is setting, and there’s not a large amount of foot traffic. Nothing here is wrong._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I’m alright.” Ludwig replies finally, “I’m going to.. go into the store. Stay out here. I’ll be alright.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______This time, when he opens the door he’s greeted to a awfully well lit store, the salesperson standing at the checkout desk happily. Ludwig stares, confused as to what had just happened to him._ _ _ _ _ _

______—_ _ _ _ _ _

______Later that night, the two had been back in their hotel room sitting at the island with the case of beer they had finally found. It was good. Just as Ludwig had remembered. The Russian sits across from him, waiting for a reaction. “Well..?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“It’s good! Here, you try.” Ludwig says, sliding him a can. He watches him open it, and take a sip. Ludwig smiles, “well..?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Misha huffs, crossing his arms. “Mocking me.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Me? Never.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______The Russian rolls his eyes, grinning. “Oh, Doktor, you tease Heavy so much.” Misha places down the can. “Doktor. Today was victory. Found your lost long drink.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______"We did,” Ludwig replies, "it is exactly what I hoped for.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______"Am very glad."_ _ _ _ _ _

______"Me too."_ _ _ _ _ _

______The two smile at one another, going silent for a few months. When the silence gets a little awkward, Misha raises his can. "To finding drink."_ _ _ _ _ _

______The other only rolls his eyes and chuckles, playing along with his friend and raising his can as well. "To finding drink." He repeats, softer._ _ _ _ _ _

______The two clink their drinks together, and finish the cans off._ _ _ _ _ _

______—_ _ _ _ _ _

______"You have a PhD in Russian literature, correct?" Ludwig asks, running his finger along the books on the shelf, trying to search for the one thing they came here for._ _ _ _ _ _

______"Yes."_ _ _ _ _ _

______A quiet Tuesday afternoon entailed a small trip to the library. Misha had asked Ludwig to teach him English on the plane ride to Germany. Ludwig, hesitantly, agreed. He had never taught anyone anything, never mind an entire language. The German only assumes he'll have to show him how to correct his grammar, how to expand his vocabulary, and how to form proper sentence structures. Misha already knows the basics, some assumed it wouldn't be too hard._ _ _ _ _ _

______"Ah, here we go!" He says, pulling a book off of a shelf. Ludwig wipes the dust off of it, turning and holding it out to the man standing beside him. "Every night I would like you to read from a small section of this book. You enjoy reading. This will provide you with everything you need."_ _ _ _ _ _

______Misha looks down at the book and takes it into his hands. It's a large hardcover book, and he wants to assume there's about four hundred pages._ _ _ _ _ _

______'English Fluency For Adult.'_ _ _ _ _ _

______"So," an eager voice says, smiling. "Is it a taker?"_ _ _ _ _ _

______"If Doktor think this will help."_ _ _ _ _ _

______"If _you_ think this will help." Ludwig reinstates, taking the book out of his hand. ___ _ _ _

________"If you think this will help." Misha says again, this time more confidently._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Good. You're already getting better." He teases, starting to walk towards the front desk to check out the book. Misha follows. Ludwig converses with the librarian, in German, of course, so Misha turns and starts examining the paintings on the wall. They’re war paintings. The one that sticks out to him shows a medic bandaging a wounded man. There’s debris and pieces of what he can assume a building scattered around the ground, the medic was young and handsome, healing an older man who had been shot in the thigh. The sky is painted a yellow and red. The sun was setting, and so seemed that mans life. No matter how the doctor tried, he knew that the damage was done._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Ludwig walks over to him, standing beside him. “Hey.” He whispers, looking over at the paintings. He notices the one Misha had been fixated on. “Do you like the painting?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“It reminds me of war.” Misha whispers back, “reminds me of times I felt like I would die. But you would save me. I am scared. We are not immortal anymore.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Nothing is going to happen to us.” Ludwig assures, walking in front of him. “We have different names, different looks, when all of this is over, you can go back home. I know how worried you are about them.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Is not sisters and mother I worry about.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Ludwig sighs. “I’m going to be okay.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“I know.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________The German notices the librarian is now staring, so, with a sudden change of attitude, he smiles, starting to walk towards the doors. “Danke für das Buch, das ist ein schönes Gemälde!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Misha gives one more good look to the painting before following the other out of the library. Ludwig hands Misha the book, starting to gather his winter gear together. “Misha,” he says, slipping a glove onto a hand. “You must not worry so much. We can handle ourselves just fine.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“I know. There is just not way of fighting out of this.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“We’ll figure it out.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * "Benötigen Sie Hilfe bei der Suche?" : "Do you need help finding something?"
> 
> * "Weißt du, wo ich Zitronenbier finde?" : "Do you know where to find lemon beer?"
> 
> * "Danke für das Buch, das ist ein schönes Gemälde!" : "Thank you for the book, that is a lovely painting!"


End file.
